


hold me

by handsofthebird



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Blood, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Smoking, jay being clueless, lotsa coughing, sorta PTSD, tim being soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11769666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsofthebird/pseuds/handsofthebird
Summary: just some tim and jay being gay, tim has a bad(ly written) nightmare and jay calms him down.





	hold me

**Author's Note:**

> hope you like it, might upload a second chapter

they had been walking for a while, now, jay with his camera, sometimes muttering about a certain tree they pass into the microphone, not really saying anything to tim. not because of any tenseness or anything, just, tim looks like he's staring off into the distance with his thoughts. he doesn't want to interrupt.

but little does jay know, that look on his face that kind of makes him seem like he's focusing on his thoughts is actually just him trying to stay awake. hes spent a good 3 days awake (one night spent watching tapes, one spent watching jay, since he couldn't sleep himself, and one night spent trying his very best to stay quiet as he shook and shuddered through a coughing fit every hour), so at this point, he feels exhausted. he would have insisted that he stay home and sleep, but something in him didn't trust jay not to just leave the house without him and get himself killed.

“hey, tim.” his thoughts are interrupted by jay’s voice chirping next to him, causing him to sleepily swivel his head towards him. the yellowed streetlight reflects on the glass of his camera lense.  
“what?” he grunts through his barely opened mouth, thumbing the lighter he keeps in his left pocket, idly running his fingers over the smooth plastic.  
“you okay, man? you look kind of tired.” tim gives the other a pointed look and jay sort of realizes what he said, stuttering for a moment, pointing the camera down more in his falter. “i mean, o-obviously you're tired, but.. you're kind of swaying.”

“uh.. ‘m fine. don't worry about me, just keep walking.” he pauses with his mouth open slightly, before he closes it and clears his throat gruffly. “what.. what are we looking for right now again?” it's about 10pm, and due to the high risk of being anywhere but a hotel, motel, or car, he's not able to bring up the explanation of why they're out here again. tim guesses he's a lot more tired than he thought.

“uhm, we just went to the corner for some food, and we walked since-”

“since we’re both really tired of driving, right. sorry.” he pretends not to notice jay’s semi -concerned look as he coughs into his fist and keeps walking.

the silence goes on long enough for tim to start thinking. his home, his lost friends, the fact that he's always got something stressing him, the constant pit that sits heavy in his stomach, consisting of guilt and panic. he decides to stop thinking once he feels a headache prod at the back of his eyes. he clears his throat again and tries to think of something to say.

“how's the battery on your camera doing?” master conversation keeper, timothy w., back at it again.  
“uh, good?” he replies sort of distantly, since he's probably thinking about something more important than the battery on his camera that he compulsively checks and charges every day.  
tim needs to think of something else to talk about.  
“how much money do you think you’ve spent on tapes alone?” there's a joking tone under his monotone grumble, and jay scoffs, smiling a bit unevenly.  
“fuck, i dunno, too much.” he readjusts the device in his hands. “i'm just glad that the prices are steadily going down instead of up.”

“why are they going down?” tim isn't what you would call tech savvy, especially when it came to stuff like cameras and stuff.

“tapes aren't the ideal anymore, i guess. theres really nice digital cameras coming out now, so people are slowly abandoning tapes.” he hefts the camera in his palm for a moment. “but i do have to say, i don't plan on changing my habits. i like my little handheld, it's been good to me.”

tim feels his heart almost tug as jay smiles fondly at the device, but he forces the feeling down and looks forward, allowing himself a small hint of a grin before forcing that down too. it's almost funny how normal that conversation was, considering what they've been through, and it's honestly a refreshing change. but just as quickly as it started, the conversation stopped, leaving a comfortable silence between them.

“finally, we’re almost home..” jay points his camera up to the streetlight in the parking lot  
corner that flickers every few seconds, and all he gets from tim is a soft grunt of acknowledgment. jay just figures it means he's indifferent, since tim’s focus almost immediately goes back to whatever's in his head.  
but tim is just telling his body that he can sleep the instant they get back into their hotel room and jay can keep watch for the night. he's gotten a few hours of sleep, he should be able to handle an all nighter. there's probably some tapes he hasn't seen yet.. or something, whatever he does.

he barely notices going up the stairs, and his first second back to reality is the quiet click of jay opening the hotel room door and going inside, leaving the door open for tim to follow close behind.  
all jay hears is the door closing and locking, a couple of footsteps, and then the cheap hotel bed creaking as tim flops himself- shoes, coat and all- onto the mattress, startling jay as it thunks and complains under the sudden weight of tim.

“goodnight, i guess.” jay breathes out through his nose quickly, almost a laugh, and sets down the camera so it faces both him at his desk and the man behind him, pointing the viewfinder so he can check on tim at a moment’s glance.  
“gnh..” he grunts into his pillow back at him, probably sleepily attempting to say goodnight back, since shortly after he starts snoring quietly, adjusting himself into a more comfortable (and slightly cuter) position.

tim tends to hug in his sleep, jay notices. whatever’s near him, whether it be a pillow, a pile of blankets, or one time, jay (they had to get a room with one bed since they were short on money. it was almost awkward, but the fact that tim is very warm and kind of soft made him not really care. he slept a good 6 hours that night).  
so as he adjusts, jay can see him, right on cue, grabbing the pillow from under his head and wrapping his arms around it, grunting as he turns on his side.

jay can feel his face heat up, and he has to remind himself not to stare creepily at the viewfinder while tim gets his rest, even though that's exactly what he wants to do. he's usually so tense, he jumps at loud noises, his temper is short due to anxiety. but when he finally sleeps, he's relaxed.  
his shoulders lose that constant strain, his face softens, he loses that angry, irritated look that he so often has. it makes him wish that he had that soft look more often. he's going to have the worst worry lines when he's old.

jay realizes he's staring again, and he clears his throat, immediately putting his attention back to his laptop, since he's supposed to be editing and uploading another video soon. he doesn't have time to fawn over his weird crush on tim right now, they're both still on the run. he's just glad they’re not actually running, not currently anyway, since he suddenly starts to feel a heaviness in his head.  
ugh, no, he can't sleep right now, he has important things to do. plus, if he got in bed his brain would probably keep him up until early morning, making him think of things he should be doing, making him think of things he's guilty about or scared of.

he prefers editing the video he's half done with, that's easier and much less panic inducing, except for when he has to watch through the clips where he has a gun pointed at him, or where he's being chased.  
jay barely notices his head bobbing down, and after realizing how close he is to sleep, he gives little to no resistance against the pull. he just hopes he won't have any nightmares.

 

_tim can see that god damned mask in the mirror of his bathroom, the dark, unreadable eyes staring back at him. even though it's his body, it sends a nauseating, unnerving shiver down his spine. he's got that jacket on, the beige coat that was previous comfort item to him. now it's just a part of that.. thing that takes over his body and hurts his friends without his knowing or consent._

_but then his body starts to move without him. his hands, which were previously braced up against the sink, push his body off, moving him swiftly down the hall and into the living room. he hears his own boots thump against his carpeted floor._

_god, he already feels the claustrophobic pull in his chest, his shoulders shaking as he coughs horribly. he can already taste blood. thick soled boots make their way to his tiled kitchen. he watches himself fumble with the drawer, gloves slipping on the sides of the rough wood, and when he eventually gets it open, he grabs the first kitchen knife he sees and slams it closed._

_oh, oh god. no no, he doesn't want to watch whatever this thing is going to do in his body. who’s it going to hurt? jay? alex? will it get him killed?_

_he tries desperately to move his arms himself, to let go of the knife, to throw it as far away as possible. but he doesn't budge, the thing in his body leaving his home and getting into his own car, driving off just as easily as tim would. he knows exactly where they're going, too._

_it takes a few moments to get to where jay is, the drive seems so short that he blinks and the thing in tim’s body pulls the car into park and gets out, making sure he has the knife in his hand. tim struggles, flails and kicks, but he just feels more claustrophobic as the thing barely acknowledges him. he finds it hard to breathe, and the panic is setting in, that thing sneaking into jay’s hotel room easily._

_he sees the sleeping form of jay, his body hunched over the desk with his hand still near the mouse pad. he almost looks peaceful. tim wants to scream at him to watch out, to wake up and fight back, but nothing’s happening. tim flails and kicks and struggles and tries to get him to stop, and just as the knife plunges into jay’s back_ ,

tim wakes up, his face hot with tears as his breathing gets snagged on rough, painful coughs, his entire form shaking. he barely feels jay’s hands on his shoulders, but eventually his concerned call makes it's way through his pounding heartbeat.  
“tim? tim! calm down, calm down, tim, please stop trying to hit me- ow-” tim immediately stops, not even realizing that he was swinging his fists at whatever’s trying to grab him, freezing his hands in place after he figures out that it's jay.  
“i’m- ‘m sorry, i-i..” he gets cut off by his own coughing fit, sobs forcing their way through, and jay carefully tugs off his now sweat soaked coat, hugging him when it's off. the man hugs back immediately, squeezing tightly and grabbing at his coat, wheezing.

he can taste blood, and it drips down out of his mouth, every cough that roughly forces it's way out of him making it splatter out onto jay, which he suddenly notices, covering his mouth and hunching over.  
“tim, are you okay? whats wrong?” he looks down at his own shirt, which he suddenly notices is covered with spit and blood, sending a rush of panic through him. “tim!”  
jay pries tim’s hand away from his mouth and quickly finds a paper napkin, wiping the blood away from his lips and chin, then handing the towel to him so he can cover his mouth with that instead.

“im gonna go get your meds, w-where are they?” jay suddenly realizes that he really doesn't want this to turn into tim having a seizure in his lap. he stands and starts for tim’s bag, but tim points hurriedly at his coat, making him rush there instead. after a moment or two of shuffling and clicking, jay hands him a pill, cuing the other to quickly swallow it dry before bursting into another fit of coughs.  
“i could’ve gotten you water..” he sits back on the bed and closes up tim’s medication bottle, stuffing it in the pocket of his coat and placing the item of clothing back on the floor.  
“ ‘s fine, jay.” tim gruffly forces out, trying to regulate his breathing as jay’s hands find their way back to his shoulders.

it takes a few minutes of jay softly talking to him and petting his (very soft) hair (which jay doesn't get to do very often, since that's not a thing most buds just do), but tim finds his way back, the only sign that he was previously sobbing and hacking out his lungs being his uneven, slightly shaky breathing.  
“tim.. are we okay now?” between the quiet, leftover coughs and little noises, tim hasn't said a word, clutching to the front of jay’s shirt and leaning his heavy head on his chest. he nods after a moment, slumping against him, panting. “wanna lay back down?”

jay’s soft, gentle voice is cooling and crystal clear in tim’s pounding ears. he sounds so genuine, and it almost makes tim feel like he's being babied. but somehow, not patronized. tim will never admit it to himself, but he kind of likes it.  
he nods again, already shifting his exhausted body into a more comfortable position, but after he doesn't let go of jay’s shirt, which is now covered in sweat and spit and blood, jay gets the memo that he should be laying down with him.

“i’ll do the laundry tomorrow.” tim’s gruff, quiet voice breaks the silence after jay gets into a comfortable position, his arms wrapped around tim’s shoulders, letting him rest his head near his chest. tim takes his time, but he eventually shifts himself so his arms go around jay, ignoring the fact that both of them smell like sweat and dirt and blood.  
“you don't have to, it's my turn anyway.” a shower is definitely in order for both of them.

“it’s my blood, jay.” he sounds guilty. for just being there, for needing attention. jay’s been through enough, he doesn't need to worry about someone else too.  
“but it's not your fault.” he replies in a way that makes it sound like he's mocking him, but he doesn't really mind. tim only responds with a quiet huff that sort of sounds like laughing.

there's silence, for a while. it's comfortable, and tim (hates to call it that, but nonetheless) snuggles into jay’s warm chest, almost feeling himself slip back into sleep. before a sound catches his ears. the camera working.  
“jay, are you still filming?” he mutters, just loud enough for jay to hear him, and he suddenly feels his face heat up as jay gives a quiet ‘mhm’.

“night surveillance camera, tim, it won't end up in the youtube reel if you don't want it to.” jay sounds a bit sleepy himself, and tim nods, pulling the blanket over both of them. he's going back to sleep, even if it means more nightmares. if he tries to start his day at 4 am, he's not going to make it past 2 in the afternoon. and neither is jay.

“you going back to sleep?” tim’s voice yet again gingerly parts the silence, waiting for jay’s response, which is fortunately a tired nod.  
“good.” that's the last thing they both hear that night, before they drift off into luckily and uncharacteristically peaceful, uneventful sleep.


End file.
